our language, a softness taken root
a teaspoon of rain over us
as we greet this new life
Tag: writing
ONE POEM – Rose Foran
I saw them. In the mind’s eye.
A vision once obscured, then clarified.
ONE POEM – Jhilam Chattaraj
Cubed potatoes, sliced onions—their oil bath
followed by a tender sauna.
TWO POEMS – Al McClimens
‘She named the major constellations
while I gawked at them and reached out to touch.’
COMFORT FOODS // TWO POEMS – Daniele Nunziata
I’ve tried planting potatoes since you left,
but they never grow the way they did for you.
ONE POEM – Bronwen Wilson
I imagine turning into
a flamingo, likes the ones
on my onesie that I’m dying
to wear.
COMFORT FOODS // Flour and Oil — Jacey de la Torre
Those are some peoples’ stories, some peoples’ histories, but they aren’t ours.
ONE POEM – Iona May
When did writing
become such a warm meeting place?
ONE POEM – Krysia Wazny McClain
Akademicheskaya Metro Station Sixty-four meters underground: vaulted ceilings whiter than eggshells, chrome shinier than any American diner. Pride of Lenin, who, mummified, did not see it open but extolled its nominal achievement by plaque five meters tall. On the escalator, my hand in a grey fingerless glove finds yours. A second couple kiss…
ONE POEM – Sarah Degner Riveros
Mama hugs
her son. Can we get
horchata? No. Not today.
It’s Tuesday. Treinta tacos?
De asada? Para llevar.
The wait’s worth it.
COMFORT FOODS // Cutlets – V.M. Braganza
Cutlets (also called potato chops), much like my family and their language, resist any attempt at tidy or singular classification.
You die if you worry – Robert Scott
You die if you worry, die if you don’t. I laughed the first time he said it. I hadn’t heard it before.
Porridge 